


Jareth's One Flaw

by KatLeePT



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 05:01:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6409873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatLeePT/pseuds/KatLeePT
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They don't get any hotter than Jareth, but yet, he still has a problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jareth's One Flaw

        Jareth turned smoothly on the heels of his black, leather boots and surveyed his image again in the mirrors into which he had transformed his monuments. The giant rocks had been crafted long ago to resemble his handsome face, so there was no harm that he could see in making them into temporary mirrors so that he could survey his work without the hindrance of at least a dozen, tiny, and ugly Goblins skittering about underneath his booted feet.

        Besides, not just the rocks were his but the ground beneath them and the sky above. All that was in the labyrinth belonged to him, and all that passed through it were underneath his domain, as well. He had every right to do with them all what he chose. It wasn't even as though he'd asked for those rights. He'd read once somewhere that greatness was thrust upon some beings; he couldn't agree more, having been stolen from his parents at an early age and forced to become the King of this place.

        He was the King and certain perks came with the title even if it also came with a figurative jail cell. Some of those benefits were as great as owning everything and one that crawled, slithered, flew, or walked through this place and as trivial, or so some would think it, as being able to have anything he chose to use in his fashion statement instantly at his fingertips. Jareth understood the importance of both, however. A King had to look his best, and he most certainly did.

        He smiled at his reflection, reached out, and touched himself in the mirror. The image wavered for a moment, like ripples in a pond, before growing still again. The women of the above world no longer had the tendency to refer to good looking men as merely debonair or handsome. For some reason, the lingo they used now was to refer to a man as a hot hunk or a dog. Jareth's grin grew. He was no dog, and they couldn't get any hotter than he was now.

        He swiveled his tightly clad hips again and watched how his body moved in the mirrors. He flounced his wrists and approved of the way the ruffles on his pure, white sleeves sashayed. He shook and grinned as the glittering beads on his dark blue, leather jacket jangled. He was ready, he thought, but then, he looked too closely.

        He looked at his eyes where they were reflected back to him in the mirrors. One was the perfect blue it should be, but the other looked green. Frowning, he waved a hand in front of his handsome face. The differently colored eye changed but only to a darker shade. He tried several more times, sparkling magic over that annoying eye, but it never changed to the color he wanted.

        He sighed, knowing it never would. He should have known that having one's face disfigured was a likely cost for spurning a Fairy Princess, but he had been too young to fully consider the consequences when the Fae had asked for his hand in marriage. He hadn't given it, and he wouldn't still. He couldn't, because if he married any one other than a girl from above ground, he would be trapped in the labyrinth forever.

        Although he was nowhere near the palace, Jareth could still hear the Goblins yammering if he listened closely enough, and some words never failed to catch his attention. "Say the words," several voices hissed, and Jareth forced himself to turn his focus away from his eyes and resurvey his look. The latest trial would be beginning soon.

        He continued to preen before the mirrors as the Goblins chattered back and forth. Even he rolled his eyes when the dumbest one of the lot asked, "Did she say it?" He would have hit himself had he been closer, but the others around him whacked him plenty of times.

        Jareth started to turn to make his approach on the girl's room when his eyes again caught his attention. He turned back to them with a growl of frustration.

        "Your Majesty," Sir Didymus yipped, popping up at his right leg, "I have it on good word that the girl will be ready soon."

        "They're never ready," Jareth said idly as he continued to try to fix that eye. "They always think they are, but they never are." Was he? he wondered suddenly. Was he ready for yet another disappointment? Was he ready for yet another foolish girl to turn him down? How could they keep turning him away, he asked himself, flexing his collar to stand on end, when he looked like _this_? Yes, his one eye was a mess, but he was the most beautiful man any of these girls had and would ever see.

        "You're right there, but the Goblins're heading out."

        Jareth whirled around to glower down at the intruding Dwarf. Even Sir Didymus took several paces back on his furry steed, Ambrosius. "Are you trying," Jareth demanded through clenched teeth, his fingers curling upward almost into fists, "to tell me how to do my duty, Hogit?!"

        "NO!" Hoggle cried, throwing up his hands, eyeing Jareth's hands that were ready to form a fireball, lightning ball, or do something else equally horrible to him, and backing up. "NO! NO! Not at all! I'm just saying," he shrugged, "girl's ready." His entire being quivered as he tried to make himself smile up at his King. "I wanted to wish you good luck."

        "Save it," Jareth snapped. "I have all the power in this realm at my disposal; I do not need luck!" He snapped his fingers, and the mirrors became his monuments again, twin, giant rocks in the shape of his handsome face. He had made it a point not to look back at them so that he would not see the one imperfection in his appearance.

        A swift kick sent Hoggle doubling over, groaning, and clutching his lower regions. "What was that for?"

        "Consider that a warning," Jareth spoke coldly. "If you ever try to tell me how to run my kingdom again, Hoglet, I _will_ suspend you face forward into the Bog of Eternal Stench and you will never breathe anything but that putrid stench again for the rest of your miserable existence!"

        Hoggle didn't ever hear the last part of Jareth's threat. He'd already fallen onto his knees and began clutching at his King's tightly clad legs, crying out at the top of his voice, "NO! PLEASE, NO, YOUR MAJESTY! ANYTHING BUT THAT!"

        "Oh, yes, Hogwart, that is exactly what your foul tongue and disobedient manners will earn you one!" Jareth exclaimed, bending his knee and knocking Hoggle off of him and back onto his back in the dirty ground. "You are lucky, though, for I do not have time for this or your foolishery now!"

        Jareth swiftly transformed into his owl form and flew away, leaving Sir Didymus to pick Hoggle back up to his feet. "I say!" Didymus remarked sharply, shaking his furry head. "I told you, Sir Hoggle, not to interfere with the King when he is observing his appearance! I fear that eye still bothers him after all these centuries."

        "He's lucky that's all he wan't able to change back," Hoggle replied, limping to his feet and rubbing a hand over his sore buttocks. "But you're right. I gotta learn to leave his snobbish Kingliness alone when he's looking in the mirrors!"

        A sharp, high-pitched bird call, much akin to the humans' siren, rang out over the labyrinth. "EVERY ONE TO YOUR POSITIONS!"

        Hoggle shook his head. "Here we go again," he grumped, limping off to meet the girl at the fountain.

        Sir Didymus sighed and mounted his steed again. "Come along, Ambrosius," he commanded gently. "We have to work to do." He looked up at Jareth's rocks and then the cloudless, blue sky above them from his one good eye and sighed again. This time, the breath of doggy air was wistful as he wished, with all his heart, that this girl would be the answer to all their problems. If their King was free, if he could truly do everything he wanted and go anywhere he wanted whenever he chose, he would not be so full of anger and hate; then, perhaps at last, they could all live in peace.

 

  
**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.


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